Lullaby Nightmare
by S3v3rusIsMin3
Summary: During the war, many terrible things happened but it was nothing compared to that horrible night, years after...Muggles are sometimes crueler than wizards or witches. WARNING: Explicit rape and angst. Oneshot


**Lullaby Nightmare**

"Why are you doing this to me?!"

"Always the same questions. Why me? What did I do? You are so pathetic and so predictable." He shifted closer.

"Please! I'll give you anything! Just stop!" Her voice was raw and scratched through her throat as she pleaded. Her wrists were swollen and sliced from the tight rope that bound her.

He stepped closer to her again, twisting a hooked knife in his hands and humming. At first she did not recognise the tune but when he started it again, she stared in horror. It was her favourite lullaby. His eyes gleamed as she tore her's away, tears coming to the surface.

"Do you know this song?" His mocking voice filled the chamber. "Shall we sing together?"

He did not wait for an answer but started to sing in a soft, sinister voice.

"Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall... Are you going to make me sing this all on my own?"

His hand brushed her cheek and she flinched back, cursing at her own weakness. His hand hovered next to her neck, barely touching. The ropes prevented her from moving any further away but her body ignored the logic as her mind shrieked in hysteria.

"Finish the song. Finish it or..." He left the threat open for her mind to fill in the blanks. That was far worse a torture than making up some elaborate menace. Her words came out in a strangled sob as he paced around the small room.

"And down w-will come ba-baby... c-cradle and all"

"That's a good girl. I think you might be learning. We might not have to use this after all." He gestured with the knife. "Now, what game shall we play? I do love games, don't you?"

She didn't answer and kept her eyes squeezed shut as if trying by pure will to make him go away. A slight breeze warned her before she felt hard metal at her throat.

"You will answer me." His previously sing-song voice turned hard with barely concealed fury. "You will answer me unless you want to suffer the consequences."

The metal disappeared from her throat as he stepped back. His voice regained its lightness though it still had a slight edge to it.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes. I love games, don't you?"

There was nothing to do but try to entertain him for long enough so that he didn't hurt her. Her voice was still tinged with hysteria but now it also contained a hint of resignation.

"Yes, I love games."

He clapped his hands together in delight just like a child would. "Good! We shall play then. The game we are going to play is an acting game. You're going to have to convince me of the things I tell you to. If you aren't convincing enough then... piece by piece, you will lose your clothing."

He frowned at her. "I hope you are very convincing... you don't have that much clothing to lose."

It was true. The light jacket she had worn out today was lying abandoned on the park bench with her bag. Underneath the jacket she'd donned a light blue shirt that enhanced her figure. She'd also put on white shorts that were now stained with dirt and grime from the alleyway and bright tights to ward off the chill. The tights were ripped in several places from her numerous falls.

"The first thing I want you to convince me of... Tell me how handsome I am. How debonair and charming. Go on, tell me."

She forced her choked throat to speak. Her voice rasped out like an old car exhaust.

"You're so handsome. You're unbelievable, dashing, charming, fantastic."

Each word was a blasphemous lie and it was very obvious to her ear... and his.

"That was horrible. You're going to have to do better than that if you want to keep your cute outfit together. As it is, I do need to take a piece."

He leaned towards her and with slow, precise movements; he sliced the arm and shoulder off the left side of her t-shirt.

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She'd stopped counting the number of things she'd had to say, each sounding more flat than the last. All she knew was that she'd almost run out of clothes. Her t-shirt had been shredded along with her shorts. Her tights lay in tatters around her and one of her bra straps was gone. Tears trickled silently down her face and she knew that she could not act any longer. He saw the acknowledgment of defeat on her face and with a cruel smirk; he cut through the seams of her remaining clothes. He did not remove them as he had done with the others. He left them there, barely covering her and nothing but material scraps.

He turned away and walked out of her vision. She heard scrapings as he changed knives and feared what was to come. When he came back into her sight, her eyes lingered on the new knife. It was short and straight. It was white as bone and the handle had intricate designs carved into it. It looked as sharp, if not sharper than the other knife. She swallowed the lump in her dry throat.

"I've had enough of games for now. I'd like to try something different."

Her heart leapt in fear as she realised what he was saying.

"You are not allowed to move. That is one of the rules. If you move, it will be much worse." He tapped the blade on his chin as if he were thinking. "I will allow you to scream though. Scream, cry or beg. Any of those are fine."

He carefully placed the knife on the edge of her fragmented bra and shifted it out of the way. The knife caught on her skin and she hissed in pain. The look in his eyes seemed to appreciate the slight noise of pain. The knife tickled around her breast before he moved to the nipple. His light movements soon became harder and she felt the blood start to trickle down her chest on to her stomach. She bit her lip to suppress the pain as he dug the blade in a little deeper. He gave the same treatment to the other breast a moment later. He traced the trail of blood from her chest to her stomach, pressing hard enough to draw blood but not hard enough for her to die of blood loss. He was going to draw this out as long as he could.

She tried her best to ignore the burning pain that seemed to be overwhelming her body. She did not thrash nor cry out but blood soon pooled in her mouth from her fragile lips as she bit down again and again, resisting the urge to beg.

Her resolve not to reward him with a scream came not a moment to early as he travelled down her body and paused.

"I'm going to enjoy this... so are you."

He then plunged the knife into her sex. Only her pure willpower kept her from screaming in pain as her body thrashed and her eyes rolled. Her hands jerked at the ropes, tightening them and slicing deeper into the flesh. He removed the knife but did not leave her empty for long. He discarded the blade and unzipped his pants, thrusting into her. Blood made the scene slippery and everything seemed darker. She did not move as he pounded into her. Her body lay still as death except her eyes. They rolled in their sockets. The white of her eyes was stained crimson from burst blood vessels as she held in her terrified screams.

The man on top of her sung as he thrust and the song was familiar.

"When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And down will come baby, cradle and all."

Her eyes closed to her favourite lullaby and never opened again.


End file.
